


I Think I’d Rather Misbehave

by horchatita394



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, M/M, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:36:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horchatita394/pseuds/horchatita394





	I Think I’d Rather Misbehave

Sebastian knew it to be true but he wasn’t expecting it, being unremarkable; not being the center of attention, the most beautiful boy around, or the youngest. He’d been so stupid, thinking that just because he was the best dancer the Warblers had and even the best in his little shit hole of a region of godforsaken Ohio that he’d be just as adored here.

He wasn’t and he hated it, hated New York and all the talent and did all these kids drop out of high school? Because he doesn’t understand how 20 seems to be a late start. But apparently if you’re not underage you’re just never going to be the hottest thing at the bar.

His dance masters aren’t impressed by him either. He’s good, of course, strong movements and good flexibility, but thousands had that. His lines were sloppy, they kept telling him, he lacked a certain grace.

“Your moves should be sensual, Smythe,” Madam chided, “not sexual. Your audience wants to be seduced, not fucked.”

Sebastian nodded and tried again, his quick tongue was only a waste of time here; he loses himself in the ache of his muscles as he practices late into the night.

He welcomes the atmosphere of a seedy bar, feels like a big fish again in this tiny cesspool. He’s still not the youngest, there’s a scrawny little thing that looks like he jumped into the nearest windowless van, but he’s certainly one of the best pieces of ass and he welcomes the immediate attention.

A few men watched from afar looking as if they were trying very hard not to drop their pants from across the room, shaky business men tugging at their ties, checking their phones for missed calls from their wives. Others approach him, greased up and on their second fuck of the night, petri dishes he had no interest in with their fake tans and their early onset crow’s feet.

No, Sebastian doesn’t want any of them. He just wants them to want him, to look at him and find him beautiful and come into cheap condoms inside their second choice lovers thinking of his ass.

He dances against them; fuck his lines and sensuality and grace. They’re not looking at him because he’s artful but because he’s hot and he tries to be ok with that. He tells himself he doesn’t need to make art or anything beautiful, he just needs them to look at him because if they don’t he’s afraid he’ll disappear.

When he gets back to the bar he doesn’t expect Briony but there she is, pouring a drink for one of the shaky suits, her brown hair soft outside of its usually tight bun, “If Madam saw you she’d have a coronary the way you were just throwing yourself around.”

Sebastian scoffs and reaches around the bar, grabbing another beer for himself, “Since when do you work here?”

“Since I quit my other job,” she said, grabbing a beer for herself, “my mom found out.”

Briony was a stripper, it helped her practice and earned her good cash and it was a classy place, she’d dragged Sebastian there once because it was apparently a mixed deal. Boys and girls dancing and contorting themselves on stage, “So? You’re a big girl.”

She shrugged and sighed, laying her head on the otherwise empty bar, “I’m going to miss it. It was fun and the patrons would send some great gifts and they have these huge bald guys that shield you from nut jobs and it was so much money.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, “So I’m guessing there’s a spot open then.”

She laughed but then seemed to consider it and took a long drink, “All practice is good practice, right?” She dug into her purse and handed him a card.

*~*~*

Sebastian scopes the place, he’s seen much worse and hardly seen much better. Auditioning is easy, though there are more notes and admonishments than he expects, _Slower, not so close to the edge of the stage, roll your hips, slow._

He gets a good long talk about how this isn’t a whore house and if he’s going to do any business it better be outside the establishment. He nods along without looking shocked or offended, honestly he’s not.

On his first night he’s under the tutelage of Tana, “You’ll probably want something to go by but for Christ’s sakes don’t make it something like Rocky or Stone or whatever you think a good macho stripper name is because that’s not the kind of crowd we get in here. Keep it classy. And don’t get your thong in a twist if a table completely ignores you, some big shots do actual meetings here, especially athlete signings and all that stuff. Don’t mind them, you just dance.”

Sebastian crossed his arms as he followed her backstage, “So big cheese sports men are out here signing contracts with our asses in their face?”

She rolled her eyes, “I don’t ask questions and neither do you. I just dance, you just dance.”

Backstage was just as swanky as the outside and Sebastian had to admit he felt oddly at home, it was the type of performance space he was used to with much more smoke and much less clothing. He watches the other men and women perform and it’s certainly more serious than your average pole twirl.

Tana snaps her fingers in front of his face, “Chipmunk are you listening to me?”

Sebastian glares, “You were squawking about private dances, is that code for sex?”

She shrugs and inspects her perfectly red nails, “It tends to end up that way, but that’s never part of your job, completely up to you. If you get requested for private shows they’ll let you take a look at the client first but don’t go turning people down because they don’t please you. We give you the option in case of stalkers or people you feel downright unsafe about, not so you can be picky.”

He bristles at all the instructions and orders but he’s come to learn that he’s got to learn his way around a place before he can rise to the top of it, so he keeps all his comments to a minimum and nods along.

He takes his scarf and coat off and sets them on the dressing table Tana tells him is his.

The woman looks him up and down with her hands on her hips, “I think you’ll like it here, thought of a name yet?”

“S,” he smiles, looking at himself under the warm dressing room lights, “just S.”

* * *

Dave hated this part of his job, this part which ironically all other interns seemed to love. Most agents would close deals and sign contracts in restaurants or high end sports bars. If the agent you were working with was a real old school guy (or a douchebag, they did it too) you’d go with them and the client and do all the signing and celebration in a damn strip club.

The last agency he worked with didn’t even have the decency to keep it in the city, they’d go to seedy little places where you didn’t want to drink from the glasses. Of course that agency signed minor league, little fish, he was expecting more from his new job.

He held the door for Bobby who honestly was old school by virtue of being ancient and peeked inside. He had to give it to him, it was a nicer place than the sort his last boss had dragged him too, with real leather that didn’t crack on the plush seats and sparkling glasses and music that…well sounded like music.

He looked over at the dancers, ready for the shiny unappealing bodies of dozens of girls. Dave blinked. Up on the stage there were four or five girls, their bodies only slightly glimmering with what he guessed was body glitter, but amongst them there were boys. Beautiful boys just as scantily clad and dancing just as provocatively. Dave wasn’t in the closet by any stretch of the imagination…but he had no idea his boss knew already.

Bobby chuckled beside him, “Thirty two years in the business and you stop assuming every red-blooded all-American baseball player is what he says he is.”

Dave smiled at him, “So you don’t assume.”

“I don’t assume and I let their eyes wander wherever they feel like wandering as long as it’s not the small print,” he winked, “And that’s a business lesson for you kid.”

They took their seats and waited for their client. Dave tried to keep his eyes on the table, on his drink, anywhere but on the provocative movements of the dancers on stage while Bobby talked to some men in the table beside theirs.

Manny Ulkinch arrived just a few minutes later, “Bobby! This is a nice place, always trust you to take me out to a nice place.”

“Only the best for our boy Manny, you’ve met David?”

They went through their greetings and formalities and Dave talked their new client up as Bobby eased the contract over to Manny and sealed the deal under twenty five minutes without many questions, just the way he liked it.

“You did good Dave, you’re gonna do great. Just talk at them,” he said clapping his hand on Dave’s shoulder, “keep their eyes busy, don’t let them get too curious about what it is we do. You just let them know we’re taking care of all the math and they leave happy.”

Dave nodded and smiled, taking another sip of his drink as he watched a much drunker Manny sliding into a seat three tables down.

They talked over the contract now that their client was distracted until Bobby begged off for the night, “Alright Dave, I’m heading off, much too old for a place like this. But you enjoy yourself, get to know the staff. It’s a good idea to become a regular where you like to do business.”

[(X)](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LxhSidauFPU)

He wasn’t completely sure he was comfortable hanging out at a strip club on his own, no matter how classy the joint was. He looked around at all the other business deals being struck and the couples, both gay and straight, enjoying the show as if were a night out to the theater. He looked up to the stage and momentarily lost every ounce of uneasiness as a couple of new dancers came on stage.

At first they danced with each other, the woman walking circles around the beautiful perfect boy. It was like an act, he realized, a real show unlike the mindless nudity he’d seen in other places. They danced a sort of tango with each other before moving off to what Dave guessed were their stations, sets of sheer cloth that hung from the ceiling where poles might have been.

He checked himself to make sure his expression wasn’t completely stupid as his eyes raked over the man whose toned arms were being wrapped tightly in the cloth. He swung around, almost lazy in his slow movements, and Dave had to decide very quickly if he was going to leave before his boner got any more embarrassing or if he was going to keep his eyes glued to that stage until he couldn’t watch him anymore.

It really wasn’t much of a choice.

He blushed as a waiter freshened his drink. She was a pretty blond girl that might have done just fine on the stage, Dave wondered why she was waiting tables in a rather conservative uniform instead. Perhaps it had something to do with the innocence of her smile, “Isn’t S yummy? He’s new but I think he’s going to stay for like ever.”

For some reason that made Dave’s heart beat quicker, “S?”

“Yup,” she nodded, almost child like, “S, the tall one with the pretty eyes.”

His own whispered words surprised him, “They are pretty.”

Just then those pretty eyes locked in with his, as if he’d heard the conversation over the thrumming bass on stage. His gaze was intense and mischievous, his lips twisting into an almost victorious smirk.

Dave dropped his eyes to the table immediately and pulled his wallet out, dropping the cash for his drink and a nice tip for the sweet girl who was still smiling at the stage beside him. He hurried out, his eyes on the floor, without being able to shake the feeling that a pair of eyes followed his exit from up on the stage.

*~*~*~*

Dave loved his job, he loved Bobby who he was starting to look to as a second father, and he fucking loved signing new clients. New contracts meant a night at Scandals which meant a night of watching S and his perfect movements and the way he smirked at him and held his gaze longer than anyone else.

He wasn’t completely sure how he felt about this being the extent of his social life outside of work, every date he went on seemed so dull and he knew it was because the bright lights of this man haunted him no matter how long he stayed away from the club.

Bobby’s smile was particularly bright tonight and Dave could guess why, “I’m proud of you, son. You reeled that one in all by yourself, I think we need to start thinking about what’s next for you with us. Can’t be tailing me forever huh?”

Dave grinned, “I’d be happy to, Bobby.”

The old man clapped him on the shoulder, “I got you a present. Now I don’t want you blushing and gushing, just have yourself some fun and don’t you show up late for work tomorrow got it?”

Before he could say a word Britt was there, the sweet waitress who always giggled as he watched S dance. She was all smiles tonight, taking his hand and pulling him to the back of the club, “You’ve got like the best boss, ever Davey, ok I gotta tell you all the rules even though I know you’re a cool guy.”

Dave swallowed thickly, “Rules?”

She cleared her throat and tried to look as serious as she could with her hand on the handle of an inconspicuous black door, the words sounded memorized, “Hands to yourself unless he tells you otherwise and your clothes stay on. Those are the house rules.”

She brushed at the lapels of his suit and settled a hand on his shaking shoulder, “And the S rule is don’t try to kiss him, throws him off his game.”

Dave had guessed but hearing it made his breath hitch, “S?”

“Told you,” she grinned as she pulled the door open and shoved him gently into the dark room, “you’ve got the best boss ever.”

* * *

 

When Tana told him he’d been requested for another private show he had to actively hold back a groan. They were dull things, especially since the tiny rooms had no space for him to actually dance so that it was just a lot of him grinding close to usually severely middle aged men and women. But when she pushed the curtain aside and pointed at _him_ Sebastian had to hold back a grin.

“Oh yeah,” he allowed himself a smirk, “he’s alright.”

She turned and raised an eyebrow, “Someone you know?”

“No,” he says too quickly, eyes still on the man, “he just seems alright Tana, isn’t that the point of showing him to me? I’ll go get ready.”

Now he’s here, practically sitting on his lap. His bear cub, the private nickname he’d taken to using in his mind while they battled with each other’s gazes every few weeks.

He loved the way this man watched him. It sent a thrill through him that rivaled a bathroom blowjob. The way he looked at him, like he was water in a desert, that’s what he’d been chasing after all this time. The soft eyes raked over his mostly naked body as if he weren’t entirely convinced this was real.

He made sure that his movements were slow and deliberate, that they might make that beautifully hungry gaze bloom in the other man’s eyes.

He lifted his hands, strong slightly meaty hands, and settled them on his own hips. Sebastian bit his lip as his palms settled over the man’s chest. He could feel the hammering of his heartbeat and nothing had pleased him so much in the longest time, nothing but the knowledge of his eyes following him on the stage. He always sat in that same spot with that same drink that Britt only refilled twice a night because he took his sweet time on it. 

His voice when he speaks is hoarse and surprisingly hot, “You stare back.”

Sebastian pushes himself back so that he can look at him, his voice hushed, “What?”

He tries not to panic because this doesn’t happen, they don’t _talk_ to him. Ask him for more or call him something stupidly perverted sure, but talk _to_ him?

“When I watch you,” he says, eyes much too intent, much too earnest for the position they’re in, “when I watch you dance, you stare back at me.”

He recovered quickly, the mask of his expression in place once again and his hips moving slowly to the music, distant always worked, “Mmm you like that?”

Soft fingertips on his chin caught him off guard again, “Yeah. I do.”

They look at each other, his body going still because the same intensity they had across the club was almost unbearable with no distance between them. He practically flew off the other man’s lap up onto the little table and held on to the cold metal of the gaudy pole as if it were a life line.

He knew the concept of “feeling uncomfortable” while he was performing for someone was supposed to mean he felt in danger, and he didn’t, he just genuinely felt the sudden prickle of discomfort at the unexpected intimacy.

He jumped off the table with ease and picked up the robe he’d discarded on the floor, “Hour’s up.”

He spared a quick glance over his shoulder to catch the startled expression on his bear cub and slipped out of the room.

*~*~*

Dave knew he’d screwed things up. He should’ve just sat there and enjoyed himself and left things alone but he couldn’t. Not with the distance between them almost non-existent and those eyes and that mouth that had become a hundred times more tempting in the five minutes he’d known he couldn’t taste it.

He walked out of the front door of the little room and worked his way out of the club as quickly as he could without calling attention to himself.

The chilled September air felt like a slap as he walked out onto the sidewalk, leaning up against the side of the club just to reel his thoughts back into some semblance of sense. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall, his mind instantly conjuring up the feeling of those hands on him, of the closeness and the heat and the scent of sandalwood so overwhelmingly close…

His eyes snapped open when he realized the scent was real and close again. The boy stood in front of him wrapped in a light jacket and sweat pants, his eyes cast onto the floor and his arms crossed, “I’ll make sure you get your money back.”

Dave blinked to make sure he wasn’t imagining things and pushed off the wall, “It was a gift.”

The other man looked at him, his expression guarded, “Still.”

They looked at each other for another moment before Dave spoke up again, “Did I do something…”

He interrupted him and stepped closer, arms tight around himself, “I like the way you look at me.”

“You…what?”

“I like the way your eyes follow me on stage, I like that you pay attention to the way I move and not just my ass but my arms and I like the way you don’t drool or leer you just watch me,” he said all this in a hushed almost embarrassed tone as he stepped closer until they stand just as far apart as they had been a few minutes ago, “I love it.”

Dave’s mind races for just a few more seconds before he leans forward and wraps his arm around the other man’s waist, tugging him close until they’re only a breath away. He doesn’t kiss him, just lets his lips hover like an offer because he’s not going to break this one rule, even if it’s cruel and unusual.

The boy smirks and unfolds his arms, a hand slipping curiously through Dave’s hair, “I’m not a prostitute, you know.”

Dave lets his eyes fall openly upon the man’s lips, dark with what must be makeup because no one’s lips could possibly that color and look so soft but his mind catches up to what he’s just said, “I know.”

The smirk melted into a sly smile and he stepped away, turning on his heel, “See you around bear cub.”

*~*~*

 Dave moaned into the silent darkness of his room. He wanted to feel embarrassed to be reduced to this, jerking off to thoughts of a striper. He was pretty sure there were bad rap songs about this but he could feel the ghost of the warm wide palms against his chest and the hot breath at his ear. It’s the quickly flashing image of the mischievous glint in his eyes and the quirk of his smile and the smooth voice calling him _bear cub_ of all things that brings him over the edge and comes over his hand with a chocked off groan, too sated  to feel as pathetic as he should.

He decides to go back the next day, excuses about business be damned, he would go every night if it meant he had another chance at talking to him, at being that close to him. But that night when he sat at his usual spot Britt bounced over immediately and tilted her head in confusion, “It’s not a Friday.”

Dave smiled shyly at her, “Yeah I know.”

She smiled back but patted his hand as she set his drink on the table, “He’s not here on Saturdays.”

Dave blinked up at her; he hadn’t realized that S probably had a schedule and days off. To be perfectly honest he hadn’t thought clearly about anything at all, “Oh.”

She looked around and over her shoulder before slipping her hand into her pocket and handing him a piece of paper, “He asked for tomorrow off.”

Dave gave her a puzzled look before glancing down at the paper in his hand, it was a ticket.

**_Martha Graham Dance Company Fall Student Showcase_ **

_Sunday September 17, 2018_

_9PM_

It only took a moment for things to click together for him. The way S seemed to move with more control and purpose than the others, how sometimes when he wasn’t busy staring back at Dave he looked so lost in the music. He looked up at Britt and couldn’t hold back the slight worry in his tone, “Do you think I should…”

“Yes,” she didn’t let him finish but nodded enthusiastically, her pony tail bobbing behind her, “totally 100%, Tana and me have to work; someone should go take him sunflowers.”

With that she started to bounce off once again but Dave called after her, jumping out of his seat, “Wait Britt… what’s his name… I mean…”

She bit at her lip and shook her head solemnly, “He’d probably buy my cat a pack of cigarettes again if I told you and I can’t have that. I just got him to quit.”

He didn’t know what to say to that so he just looked at her, still holding on to the ticket with uncertainty as she walked off.

The next night he set the little paper on his coffee table and stared at it, taking a deep breath. He had no idea what the hell he was doing, if going to this thing would qualify as stalking, if he’d even want Dave there at all, if he was just a favorite client or S was actually interested in him he didn’t know. He knew Hummel would have all sorts of ethical bullshit to say about it but in the end the rabid mix of curiosity and desire won out and he grabbed his coat.

He fidgeted in his seat and looked helplessly through the program. There was no list of the student performers, just the pieces being performed and the classes that were taking part in them. As the house lights dimmed he felt nerves bubbling in his chest, no matter how positive Britt seemed he felt as if he were doing something wrong, seeking him outside of the club.  Then, with only a short preamble of young girls, he was there. Center stage as other young men took their positions along the sides. He was impossibly more beautiful this way, the fierce determination in his eyes and the sharp almost aggressive movements; beautiful and further away than he had ever seemed.

As soon as the performance was over he felt stupid for being there. Somehow seeing S outside of the club made him…more real somehow, and even more unreachable. He was beautiful and Dave was Dave and nothing was going to change that.

A crowd gathered outside the stage door, family members and loved ones with flowers and gifts. He looked down at the bundle of three sunflowers he’d somehow let Britt convince him about and stuck them carefully on the railing of the short stairs that led into the theater, slipping away before the dancers could come out.

Back in the safety of his apartment he turned on the TV, the stereo, and his laptop just to make enough noise to drown out his thoughts. He wouldn’t go back to Scandals, he couldn’t, couldn’t sit there anymore and lust after someone he couldn’t have and waste away that way. He’d come too far for that.  Now that Bobby was letting him sign clients on his own he’d pick somewhere else, a restaurant or a regular club or something like that. Something he could classify as strictly work. He could move on.

*~*~*~*

It doesn’t catch Sebastian’s attention for a few weeks. Bear cub wasn’t an avid regular, he only actually showed up when he had work to do as far as he’d been able to see. It wasn’t until he saw the old man that was always with him walk in with another huge ball player that he realized how long it’d been since he’d seen the man, since he’d felt himself seen.

The next couple of weeks were bitter; his dancing was as soulless at the club as it was at school even if he redoubled the fierceness of his movements and the perfection of his technique. Hookups with random guys became few and far between as he threw himself fully into his practice, hardly noticing the world around him until one day he came back.

He had no one with him and he wasn’t wearing a suit the way he always did, but he sat at his usual spot and he could see Britt’s blinding smile as she served his drink. Sebastian refused to look at him though, and if Tana complimented the extra umph in his dancing it had nothing to do with the rush of feeling himself seen again, he couldn’t let himself believe that.

He stepped off stage and back into the dressing room, trying to muffle down the pang of indignation he felt when he realized what must have happened. Sebastian had told him he wasn’t actually a whore and he hadn’t been interested. He had no idea why he was back now but it hurt somewhere deep in his stomach and he almost felt sick when Tana walked in, “Chipmunk are you alright?”

He shrugged one shoulder and pulled on his sweat pants, “I’m going home.”

She stood quietly watching him as he gathered his things. He pushed his way out of the dressing room and she called after him, “Hey seriously, are you going to be ok?”

He blinked once, still struggling with the nausea he felt, “I’m golden, you go dance.”

It was stupid to go outside in a mild snow storm but he needed fresh air, even if it was frozen. He was hardly even surprised to find him there, leaning against the wall.

“Hey bear cub,” he kept his tone neutral, “long time no see. Found prettier boys to dance for you?”

The man looked at him, his expression unreadable, “I saw you dance, really dance, at that show.”

Sebastian froze, “What?”

“I went to see you there and then I stopped coming here,” he sighed and kicked off the wall, “because I realized I was just making things worse for myself.”

His eyes narrowed as something suddenly made sense, “The sunflowers.”

The boy shrugged, “I’m sorry if it was a stalker thing to do. I just couldn’t… I wanted you to have them; I didn’t want you to have to turn them down because it was me.”

Sebastian moved closer, ignoring the way the cold bit harshly at his body through the light fabric, “Why would I do that?”

The man laughed, short and bitter, “Because I’m just another loser that stares at you while you strip. Because you’re beautiful and talented and I look like me.”

Sebastian looked at the man in front of him, really looked at him, because he realized all this time he’d only been seeing the way he was being watched and not who was watching him. He was probably just his age if maybe a couple of years older and he was built like a classic bear cub all sweet face and wide shoulders. He was hot in that kind of way that only people who could never quite see themselves that way were, that timid thing always tempted him.

“So you didn’t get sick of me, then.”

He looked thrown off by the suggestion, “Get sick of you? Are you nuts? I can hardly stop thinking about you; I drive by this place like a creep and have to talk myself out of walking in almost every week. Obviously today I failed and now I’m just probably freaking you out like a…”

His bear cub is a surprisingly adept kisser, it didn’t even take him half a second to recover from the unforeseen attack on his lips before his arms slid around Sebastian’s waist and pulled him closer, whining softly against his lips as Sebastian tugged at his hair. Still he’s the one to pull away, blinking at him with a slightly dumbfounded expression, “You’re freezing.”

Sebastian smirked; running his cold thumb over the man’s swollen lips, “Warm me up?”

His bear cub took a shuddering breath, his eyes searching Sebastian’s face but he knew not what for, “Are you going to tell me your name?”

He thought about it for a moment before answering. “Yeah, after you warm me up I’ll tell you my name, and you can tell me yours,” he brushed his frozen lips against the other man’s cheek, “But I want one last night of being S.”

* * *

He didn’t know why he needed this, keeping their names to themselves, maybe part of him knew that this was the last night of almost anonymous sex he’d have. Maybe there was something in him that knew this was it even before he entertained the thought. Sebastian watched his bear cub’s face as the other man undressed him slowly, his hands rubbing warmth into his chilled skin as he went. He nibbled at Sebastian’s throat and then continued mouthing slowly down his chest until he paused, chuckling against his skin, “Tastes like marshmallows.”

Sebastian laughed quietly and carded his fingers through the other man’s hair; he’d forgotten he was wearing the flavored glitter Britt had gotten him, “Aren’t I yummy?”

He arched his back as the soft, warm trail down his chest continued and gasped when he felt the shock of wetness as he licked the soft skin above Sebastian’s waistband. He smiled to himself as the other man paused in the act of peeling off his pants because for one he wasn’t wearing his uniform boyshorts under this and two he knew perfectly well what he was staring at, “Like it?”

A gentle finger tip traced the tiny star on his hipbone curiously, “That’s … fuck that’s hot.”

He leaned up and pulled the other man into a kiss, “I got that the day after you first came in. Cause the way you looked at me, like there was no one else in the room, made me feel like a fucking star.” He laughed at himself and kissed down his neck, “I might have been drunk too but I kinda like it.”

His bear cub made the most delicious sounds not grunts like he expected, but perfect little moans that shot through him and if he wasn’t already impossibly hard…, “I wanna ride you.”

*~*~*

Dave was pretty sure he was dead and he couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck because there was an angel looming over him glimmering in sweat and make-up glitter that wanted to ride his dick, he was completely okay with being dead right now. He was lose limbed and pliant, letting S push him back onto the mattress and take the rest of his clothes off so they were both equally undressed and he couldn’t even manage embarrassment at his own body because S had his hand on his cock slipping on a condom and it was incredibly distracting.

He managed enough presence of mind to lean up and take the bottle of lube from his hands, pouring some onto his own fingers and pulling S closer to him, “Lean into me.”

He could feel the boy’s harsh breathing and the way his muscles tensed as Dave worked him open slowly. He relished in the wrecked sound of his voice ad he whimpered against his ear, “More _mmph fuck_ more please.”

He might have come just from the desperate mewls that slipped from his lips as Dave pushed a second finger into him, all the while mouthing and kissing at his glittered skin. He felt the hands clinging to his shoulders clench and the scratch of blunt nails, “Oh _fuck fuck_ I’m ready.”

He pushed himself off and shoved Dave back onto the bed, his eyes wild and dark, “Watch me.”

It sounded like a plea and a command all wrapped up in desperation as he slowly lowered himself and Dave couldn’t hold back the resounding moan that left his lips. He felt desperately like closing his eyes and losing himself in the sensation but he managed to do as he was asked and watch. He watched as the other man moved as if it were just another dance, his face contorted in ecstasy and his hands splayed on Dave’s chest.

He was beautiful, beautiful and perfect and maybe just for tonight his. The thought tore through Dave and he leaned up, capturing his lips desperate to keep him there, to keep him close.

*~*~*

The proximity scared the shit out of him, it was a strange contrast to how absolutely safe he felt wrapped up in this man’s arms, being filled and caressed and fucking worshiped.

He speeds up, his hips snapping down with more force each time to elicit those desperate little moans again. Sebastian was always racing towards the finish line, always annoyed by the means to the goal, he just wanted to get off and get out every single time. This was different, so different that he was terrified, he didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want it to end in case it was the only time he felt this way; so clearly seen, so cherished.

He pressed their lips together again, less urgent but no less needy, clinging to the other man’s shoulders as he slipped himself on to him faster and faster. All it took was a firm warm hand wrapping itself around his cock and he was coming, mind numbingly hard, his moans echoing between them for what seemed like an eternity until he felt the man holding hi tense and cling to him, stuttering his moans onto the skin of his shoulder.

The room was silent save for their harsh labored breathing and he traced patterns across his bear cub’s back, reluctant to move away and let him slip out of him. He relished in the closeness, mildly horrified that he was going to be asked to give this up, to go back to begging for scraps of adoration from busy strangers. He let himself be pulled down onto the bed, wincing slightly at the new emptiness only to be soothed with a gentle hand at his temple. He knew he could only hold so long before he drifted off to sleep, only long enough to register the strength and warmth with which he was held, the firm chest and hammering heart against his back, and the slow gentle fingertips grazing over the dark inked star on his hip.

*~*~*

Dave stepped out of his room wondering if it’d all been some tortuously realistic dream when he saw him. It was a strange and perfect sight; his skin fresh and clean, no harsh spotlights but the cheerful shine of the early morning sun illuminating his face which was framed in adorably thick rimmed glasses, a thoughtful smile on his lips while he held a mug, “Morning.”

He hardly looked surprised, only set his mug down and picked up the duffel bag that had been obscured by the couch and hitched it over his shoulder, “I didn’t want to leave the place unlocked.”

Dave stepped forward, not entirely sure what it was he wanted to say. _Stay a bit longer, you don’t have to go, never leave, “_ You promised me your name. I believe I managed to warm you up?”

He smiled, the bag falling a couple of inches down his arm, “You did.”

He licked his lips and walked over to him, grabbing the duffel bag and setting it on the floor. The arm that held it hung limply at the man’s side and he took it, examining his hand like a precious artifact before looking up at him, “I’m Dave.”

He smiled, his teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he looked down at their hands, “Sebastian.”


End file.
